


Till Death Do Us Part

by ddagent



Category: Operation: Endgame (2010), Ravenous (1999)
Genre: F/M, Past Relationship(s), Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's my second wedding, he says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till Death Do Us Part

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Operation: Endgame, Ravenous or any of their characters, or their settings - all belongs to their respective institutions.
> 
> calonari prompted: "It’s my second wedding he says" based on the back story of Ives we received in the Ravenous commentary. This was originally filled on tumblr but has been extended and edited. 
> 
> ENJOY! :D

”Hiero, it doesn’t have to be perfect,” Francis groaned, collapsing against the back of the sofa after they showed out the florist. "I thought we agreed to a simple wedding?"

 

Well, at least he _thought_ they had.

 

It had been two months since his proposal and despite their agreement that it would be a small wedding; his fiancée had gone all out. They had interviewed seven ministers [had killed the one that made a pass at Hiero in the kitchen]; they had eaten more than their fair share of wedding cake and had double and triple checked the invite list - both condensing and expanding the damn thing. Eventually they had settled on red velvet cake and only a few publishing contacts and a few ex assassins. But there were still the flowers, the minister and the honeymoon to choose.

 

While he was trying hard not to pull his hair out, Hiero was positively _glowing_ about the whole thing. If it wasn't so damn stressful, he would have been captivated by her. But while he found her glare sexy, he also found it scary. "Darlin', this is going to be the first and only wedding for both of us. I _want_ it to be perfect."

 

She wanted it to be perfect. She wanted to have a fairytale wedding and spend the best day of her life with the man she loved. What she didn't know was that this wouldn't be the first day he had stood up and declared undying love to someone. He had tried to tell her before: once when they had first started dating, and again the day after he had proposed. But he had never been able to. Now was as good a time as any.

 

He put down the glass of scotch he was drinking and reached for Hiero's hand. Her bright smile faded as she looked at him. "Francis what's wrong."

 

"Hiero...this isn't my first wedding." He paused, letting his words sink in. "I've been married before."

 

Francis watched Hiero's face curl in on itself. She looked as if her world was crumbling down, and he supposed it was. They were perfectly matched in everything - never finding someone they loved, always being alone. But he _hadn't_ always been alone. He watched as she put some distance between them, as she pulled away from his touch to stand near the coffee table. Their wedding invitations were spread all across it.

 

"You've been married? Who? When?" Hiero choked. "I can't believe you never told me this."

 

He sighed, leaning forward on the sofa to remove some of that distance. He wanted to hold her, touch her. He wanted to know that he still held her heart. "I didn't know how. I honestly don't think much about my life before I became a Wendigo. That's when it was, Hiero. Centuries ago, back in Scotland."

 

 Hiero nodded, biting her bottom lip. This was ripping her apart. For all her violent tendencies, Hiero was still a girl who believed in fairytales and true loves. To have her blood soaked prince charming married to someone else..."Who was she? What happened to her?"

 

He might as well get out all his history in one go, however much it hurt. He just hoped he had the woman he loved at the end of it. "She was the butcher's daughter. Pretty, sweet. We were supposed to move from Scotland to Maine so I could be a minister in the new world. She and our daughter died on the journey."

 

Francis risked looking up at Hiero, and his heart began to hurt. His beautiful fiancée, the woman he loved more than any immortality he might possess, was crying. He had kept his life from her, his past. She had told him everything - every hand her mother had laid on her, every touch her father had thrust upon her. The smell of the gasoline as she had burned her childhood home to the ground. But he had kept his wife, his daughter, his calling a secret from her. They were nothing more than dust and bones to him, but to his new wife they were part of the man she loved.

 

He knew it was an idiotic move, but he had to comfort her. The moment he left the sofa her hand reached out to stop him. She walked away from him, her back hitting the door. "Don't touch me. _Don't touch me._ " She ran a hand through her blonde curls. "Oh Francis I thought you were like me. I thought we were two of a kind, that I'd finally found someone who I could be myself with. I didn't realise that you weren't always like this. That you...developed like this."

 

She didn't want a romantic hero with a tragic back story. She had wanted a born killer.  

 

Francis knew the moment that Hiero intended to leave, intended to walk out that door and never return. And she wouldn't - he would look all over the planet for her but he would never find her. He couldn't lose her, couldn't let her walk away. He loved her. For the first time in his entire life he was in _love_ and he wasn't willing to let it go.

 

When her right side twisted to head through the door, Francis leapt up and pushed Hiero against the wall, plastering his body against hers. She had to listen. He had to explain. "Hiero, it's not what you think."

 

"Not what I think?" she struggled against his pull but he was stronger. Just. "How long before they make a movie about the tragic minister who ends up a killer through grief?" She shot her head back, hitting him square in the forehead. He was jerked away from her long enough so she could twist in his embrace. She was still crying. "I still love you Francis. I just can't understand why you love me if you were...normal once upon a time."

 

"Because I wasn't!" Francis cried. He reached out a hand to caress Hiero's cheek. "You knew from a young age what you were. And so did I. But I ran from it. I became a minister; sure that God would cure me of my evil ways but he didn't. I even married a woman so devoted to religion that she would only let me bed her to make our child. But even that didn't stop my true nature."

 

Hiero's lips twitched. Oh she was a jealous little rabbit, but she had nothing to worry about. He had only ever been hers. "So it wasn't a happy marriage?"

 

"Darling, it was so awful I often thought about killing myself _._ I wasn't even a good minister! I used to...well the night before I married some couples I used to make sure the brides were in perfect working order, as it were." He grinned, seeing that his confession was making his fiancée smile. "I even killed, back in Scotland. I fucked his wife before their wedding night, took her from behind on the altar. When he found out, he came after me with a knife. I slit his throat and buried him in the cemetery out back. I had no desire to be hanged, so that same night I left with my wife and my daughter."

 

Francis stepped away from Hiero and together they walked back to the sofa. It felt good to share, felt good to talk. His wife's smile was worth any unsettlement it brought up. "What was she like, your daughter?"

 

"She was small, tiny. Born with a withered arm." He sighed. "I suppose I did love her, although at that time in my life I didn't know what such a thing was. I remember that I didn't weep when my wife passed, but I remember crying as I held my daughter. It's so long ago that I can't even picture her face. I know that I've never hurt a child. I know that."

 

Hiero curled against his side, her fingers brushing against his shirt. "I'm afraid that if we ever have children, that I won't love them. I'm afraid I can't."

 

He wiped away the tears slipping down her cheeks. "Oh my love, you will be the most amazing mother. Back then I didn't know how to love. I thought I was numb. But being a Wendigo has awakened me, as it's awakened you. And I love you, with all my heart. You are the first person I have ever truly loved, and I want to keep loving you until the day time stops."

 

Their kiss was passionate: tongues fumbling, teeth nipping. Hiero ended up on his lap at some point, her hands dragging over his chest as if desperate to get him naked. He wasn't complaining. When they did break from the kiss, he looked her over. Her eyes were puffy, her lips swollen. But she was smiling at him. He kissed her jaw tentatively. "Please still marry me, Hiero."

 

She nodded, taking both his hands and holding them in her own. "There's nothing else, is there?"

 

"No, love. Just that." He rested his forehead against hers. "You know, now that I think about it, my first wedding was awful. I was stuffed into this tight suit and the service was a good two hours long. My wife only let me kiss her hand and there was only a sliver of beef for dinner. The wedding night, well that was a disaster too."

 

"Oh?" Hiero asked, moving his hands to her hips. He chuckled at her blatant claiming. "Was it really that bad?"

 

"Oh yes. Fucked for about two minutes until I came, and that was it. I suppose it was normal for the time, but I've never been normal." Francis tucked his thumbs under Hiero's shirt and started making his way up to her breasts. "We should have a perfect wedding. We should have a day that's just about the two of us, where we can declare our love to the whole world."

 

Hiero leaned down to kiss him, brushing her nose against his. "As long as I have you, it will be perfect. I don't need ice sculptures or violins. I just need you."

 

With the love of his life in his arms, they turned back to the wedding preparations. They decided on red roses, the fourth minister they had interviewed and to spend their honeymoon up at Francis' cabin where old Fort Spencer used to be. And if this wedding wasn't perfect, Francis assured Hiero they could do it again in another fifty years.

 

They also decided that 'till death do us part' would be removed from their vows. They would be together forever. 


End file.
